


Hothian Snowdrops

by Pyrothebookworm



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, An AU fanfic of a fanfic of an AU fanfic, Angst, Blood, Hand waving cannon like nobody's business, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I do what I want, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Mandalorians, Wrap Yo Mind Around That, fic-ception, take care of yourselves, the obligatory hanahaki fic no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrothebookworm/pseuds/Pyrothebookworm
Summary: It started so subtly that he honestly didn’t realize what it was at first.At first, he thought the child was responsible, until he heard him. Coughing and choking and short of breath."Corinpleasejust tell me how I can help you?""You can't, it's complicated."
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where this is going. I don't even know how long this will be, or if I will even be able to finish it. All I know is I have nitpicked this for days, and I'm tired of looking at it. I also have no beta so if you see anything wrong feel free to point it out. That said. 
> 
> This is it, I've done it. The obligatory hanahaki au. I'd like to ~~curse~~ thank the awesome folks over @mandorinoranges you know who you are AND what you did. If you recognize it I don't own it, and if you don't recognize it I probably **STILL** don't own it.
> 
> I would like to take this moment to thank Ladyirina who's amazing series The Mandalorian, his son and the Storm Trooper gave us our beloved Corin, and Macx who's amazing fic Resist, Protect, Defend gave me a planet that is unintentionally the _Root_ *snicker* of Corin's problem. Don't know who they are? Well what are you waiting for? Go look them up I promise you wont regret it. That said let's get this train wreck on the road.

It started so subtly that he honestly didn’t realize what it was at first. He has only the faintest of memories of his mother. Her long dark hair, thick and wavy, like his. The warmth of her eyes. The rich floral scent of her perfume. Her favorite purple dress, that always brought out the blue of her eyes. Made them appear darker, richer, eyes she had given to her only son. 

His mother had been the most beautiful thing he had ever known, and he was always so happy to be by her side. She was his whole world. Her lips painted scarlet, and always graced with a loving smile. Always there for him whenever he would feel sad or scared. Her soft voice telling him stories of love. Endless all consuming love, equally beautiful and lethal for their people. “Beware my son.” She would tell him, while holding soft red flowers in her hand. “Of the perils of falling too deeply, too fast.” 

It was his mother that gave him his love of the cold and snow. Convincing his father to take them to a snowy world, she showed him the joy of catching small ice flakes on his tongue. How to build forts they could play in, and figures made of snow that were even taller than him! It was his mother that whispered tales of caution to him in quiet moments. Tales learned at the knee of her mother, and only when his father and uncle were away. 

It was his mother that loved him the most, and then she was gone, and he was alone. He was still so very young. It was not particularly surprising that he had forgotten most of his mothers tales, with the training he began as soon as he was deemed to be old enough. There was so much his father and uncle had wanted him to do, to learn. Memories tend to fade with the passing of years after all. In light of that, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he didn't understand what was happening at first. 

For despite his cold tolerance he is not actually immune to it, chills are rare but they still happen. After all when heaters malfunction, space is cold. Just because he never really gets sick doesn't mean he doesn’t cough. After all smoke or spices can irritate the throat and lungs all too easily. Taking that first too deep breath in cold air can sometimes lead to a chill, a small sharp pain in lungs that were unprepared for the cold. 

In hindsight it all makes so much sense. He could easily track the progression of events and how he had come to this point. It could all be so easily explained, and explained away by the willing. Until the first petal. Standing there dragging his fingers gently, almost reverently across the small white petal cradled in his palm, then he began to remember. Faint, spotty with age, and undoubtedly missing the finer details. Long forgotten memories dredge themselves up. 

The way she would always curl up with him at bedtime. How happy he would be to have her with him, for she had been his whole world. How safe he would always feel wrapped in her arms. Her hands, loving, but always so cold. “Cold hands, warm heart.” She would whisper with grief in her eyes, before she pressed a kiss to his brow. “So easy for love to take root.” Then, he begins to understand. 

“Beware my son, of the perils of falling too deeply too fast. You can be kind to others, but always be cautious of who you gift your heart too.” She would tell him, with such sorrow in her voice. “For much like your ancestral world, your feelings will take root and grow. You hail from a planet like no other. Far from any trade routes, it is not the resources that make the planet your mother’s mother hailed from interesting. For most of the planet consists of unsettled jungle.” 

“Nor is it the people that make this world special for they have chosen to live there. It is said that on this planet, one's past doesn't matter, only ones future.” She would say as she ran her fingers through his hair. “What makes our world so unique is that it is sentient, in a way. Only the crazy and the truly desperate try to settle here for this planet chooses who belongs, and jealously guards its chosen few. Once settled it is rare for the accepted to choose to leave again. It is rare for one to be born of this world, and even rarer for those few to leave, but it does happen. Your grandmother was one such person.” 

Unnoticed and unbidden a single tear begins to slide down his cheek. “It is said, however, that the children born to our ancestral world are so beloved by the planet that when they do leave, regardless of how long they are gone or how far they may go, they take a piece of their homeworld with them always. A piece they will carry with them and pass down to their children, and their children’s children. A blessing to know their own hearts and a birthright always hidden but never far away. To remain hidden, until the moment they give their hearts away.” 

He is uncertain of how long he stands there gently stroking the petal in his hand. It feels like a moment, it feels like an eternity. It is the soft, worried coo that brings him out of his memories. The child hovers in the doorway, watching him with solemn eyes. Only then does he turn and drop the tiny petal down the vactube. Only then, does he brush his arm across his face to remove any lingering moisture. Only then, does he sweep the child up into his arms. 

“Hey there little guy.” Corin says with a bright smile, while looking into those far to old eyes. “What's wrong?” The child stretches up his tiny hand and places it against Corin's cheek and babbles solemnly at him, for a moment. “I’m fine.” Corin replies on instinct as he heads for the cockpit of the crest, mindlessly chattering away at the baby to put him at ease. “Hey, let's go see where Mando has set our course for this time.” “Do you think it might be a snow planet?” 

“So beware my son, of who you give your heart to. For even though we have never set foot upon our ancestral homeworld, still, it seeks always to reclaim it’s lost children.” She would whisper while delicately dabbing the blood from her lips. “Commit these tales of mine to your memory, and carry these warnings in your heart. Above all else, guard it wisely my child. Do not give your heart to one who is unworthy of it’s love, as the unworthy will only lead you to your ruin. For no one ever truly leaves Sonsos.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up dudes! I'd like to thank all off you for being so awesome! I've never had so many comments, kudos, hits, and bookmarks on a fic before. Sorry it took a while to wrangle this, I work weird hours so updates may not be the most consistent. But I am committed to finishing this fic, and another one that the discord has got percolating in my brain so I beg you to stay with me. As always I have no beta so if anything jumps out at you feel free to let me know. I'd also like to thank Wookiepedia for being a fountain of Star Wars info, and give a shout out to the amazing arch_tect, who graciously let me borrow a scene from their amazing fic Polishing Beskar. I tried to rewrite it so it wouldn't be exactly the same. It involves their oc Nathan who joins them in episode 3 and continues past episode 8. Interested? Maybe you should go give it a read. _Hint Hint_

He thinks it began on the way to Castilon. His heart knows it began in an ice cave on Elerrus. Castilon, the mandalorian had explained, was an ocean world located so deep in the Outer Rim Territories that it was almost in Wild Space. Their destination was the Colossus. An old space station and supertanker fuel depot that had been converted into a public refueling station. They were just days outside of Castilon, when bad luck stuck. 

Corin had been curled up in the cargo hold with the little one showing him all the information he had been able to dig up on Castilon. Apparently over the millennia a number of battles had been fought over Castilon leaving star ship wreckage scattered across the sea bed. Some of this wreckage, had been gathered and formed into platform structures above the surface of the water by the Chelidae. An amphibious sentient species enclosed in a natural protective shell indigenous to the planet, that preferred to live above the water. The Colossus, in addition to being a refueling station, boasted a thriving racing circuit that was rapidly becoming famous throughout the galaxy. 

The child had been sitting in his lap and seemed completely enamored by the holopics of the planets native fauna. Four eyed, white and blue plumaged Speagull’s, that would apparently attempt to steal uncovered food. Four legged pink and brown striped Snarlfish. They possessed movable eye stalks and, if the holopics were to be believed, appeared to be able to walk on dry land. Massive dark blue Sharvo fish with bioluminescent spots down their backs, and were apparently capable of eating a fully grown man. And, the most unnerving in Corin's opinion, an over 700 foot long, greenish-blue, four eyed, six tentacled sea creature known as a Rokkna. 

“You.” Corin stated, after a gentle tug on the baby’s ear to get his attention, “Are not going _anywhere_ near the water. His only response was an innocent coo completely at odds with the hint of mischief in those big brown eyes. Corin, not believing that look for an instant, resolved himself to not letting the child out of his sight when they made planetfall. 

“Okay little one, let’s go see...

WHAM! 

The holopad goes flying as Corin and the baby end up sprawled across the floor of the ship. “What was that?” Corin yelped while clutching the whimpering baby protectively to his chest. Suddenly the crest banks hard to the right sending the pair of them sliding across the cargo bay, as unsecured items rain down around them. “Come on little one, I think we're under attack and it’s not safe here.” By the time Corin and the baby make it to the cockpit, the excitement was over. That, was the good luck.

The bad luck, the mandalorian had explained after silencing the emergency sirens, was that one of the shots had clipped the fuel tank and they and they were leaking fuel. Thankfully the leak was minor enough that they should still be able to make it to Castilon within two days, as long as they conserved their remaining fuel. In order to do so they would have to shut off the remaining power to all non emergency systems. In most ships of a similar size, that would be a death sentence, as the air recycling and heater systems were integrated. This fuel saving integration would lead to the suffocation of the crew within two hours or less. 

Fortunately the Razor Crest was pre-empire, and as such, her systems were non integrated and could be cycled on and off individually. So while there would be no risk of suffocation, they could still freeze to death. It was a risk they would have to take.

At first, it was wonderful. It would take some time for the lingering heat to disperse. Between the growing chill on his skin and a little imagination and Corin could easily be back on his snow planet. Walking in the cold and the silence, whether on patrol or simply for leisure, watching a blizzard in all its fury, it was a sense of peace Corin had missed. After a few hours, however, it became apparent that even wrapped in extra layers the baby was struggling with the cold. Corin spent the night with the baby sleeping on his chest under his shirt to keep him from shivering. 

By the second day even Corin was beginning to suffer in the cold. The mandalorian had long before shed his armor in favor of layering clothes to provide warmth, after feeling just how cold to the touch his pauldrons had become Corin completely understood. He had slowly been adding more and more layers as the day progressed to keep the baby and himself warm but it didn’t seem to be helping. Even though he had been incessantly shivering for what felt like hours, his hands were still so cold that they felt like they were burning. When the baby started acting sluggish and difficult to rouse, Corin knew they were in trouble. He also knew of a possible solution, but he didn’t think the mandalorian would like it.

Corin was right, he hadn’t liked it. 

He had liked the weak mewling cry the little one had let out even less. Which would be how they had awkwardly ended up here, in the mandalorians bunk, together. Buried underneath every blanket and sheet that they could find on the ship. Corin lying on his side with his eyes glued to the doorway in front of him, and mando, helmetless, with the baby strapped to his chest and pressed up close to his back. And then slowly, hesitantly, they begin to speak. 

First, they talk about the baby. He is an easy subject and a common ground between them. Then, as they grow more comfortable with each other, they talk about their lives and their childhoods. Parents, friends, anything and everything they felt comfortable enough to speak about. Good memories, carefully hoarded away through the years and shared only with a trusted few. Eventually, Corin gathers up the courage to ask, and is rewarded with the mandalorians name. And that is how they pass the remaining hours to Castilon, in peace, in warmth, and in comfort.

Strangely though, Corin’s hands never quite manage to warm up completely.


End file.
